Le fantôme-Revisted
by Kuro Kali
Summary: What if, instead of the ungrateful Christine Daaé, Erik had someone to love who would appreciate his gifts and love him in return?
1. L'ange de l'Opéra

Prélude: Une Introduction  
  
Before the horrible reviews come flying in from the Erik/Christine fans, allow me to explain myself.  
After reading (and crying over) The Phantom of the Opera and Phantom, I wanted to give Erik a woman who appreciated him and his love, as I would. Hence, Amoret LeRoux was born. (Amoret for me, LeRoux in honor of Gaston Leroux)  
I love the musical, so it's sort of a songfic, with the songs worked into the dialog, and altered to suite my bizarre needs.  
I will appreciate any and all reviews, but be forewarned: any flamers will receive their just rewards...  
And now, "Le fantôme-Revisited".   
  
  
Le Chapitre Celui: L'ange de l'Opéra  
  
Erik Dessleur, know more commonly as the Phantom of the Opera, sat in his box and watched with hatred the prima donna, Carlotta Guidicelli. She could not carry a tune, or even fake it. She was not beautiful, nor was she talented. But she was famous, and that alone brought the masses to the Paris Opera House, who wanted only to be seen seeing the Diva.  
He was therefore most grateful when she left the stage and the chorus took her place. He could see Meg Giry, daughter of his boxkeeper on the front row (his doing), and next to her was a girl he did not recognize. Erik leaned forward. How could he have missed this beautiful girl?  
She was tall, with long red-gold hair that was bound with silk ties and roses. Her skin and features were pale and fine as porcelain, with coral lips and green-gray cat's eyes. She moved with grace, both acquired and natural, and she was so totally focused on her piece that Erik was scarcely sure she was aware of her surroundings.  
But when she sang...oh, how his heart ached with longing. Her voice was as beautiful as she was, and he wondered how the Opera had kept this young woman from him. Erik listened, blissfully, as she sang. When she had finished, it was all he could do to keep from jumping to his feet and applauding wildly.  
She took her bows with the other chorus girls, and then a strange thing happened. As she rose, she looked directly up at Box Five. Erik thought for a frantic moment that she could see him. But a moment later, she shook her head as if to clear it, then left the stage. Carlotta returned, and Erik held the image and voice of his mysterious chorus girl in his mind, trying to drown out the unpleasantness of the diva. He almost succeeded. 


	2. A destiné s'à élever..

Amoret LeRoux glanced in the backstage mirror quickly. A young girl of almost but not quite nineteen looked back at her. She had long red hair which was currently curled and piled on top of her head, a gently upturned nose, a Cupid's bow mouth of pale rose, creamy white skin and slightly tilted gray-green eyes.  
She was a lovely girl, but she was often made to forget this. "Out of my way, little toad! *I* am the Diva!" Carlotta Guidicelli snapped impatiently at poor Amoret, who moved as quickly as her costume would allow. "Some people give themselves such airs, Ubaldo! And simply because they somehow managed to get a place in the chorus!" the diva snapped at Ubaldo Piangi, the lead baritone. Carlotta said "chorus" as one might say "prison".  
Amoret turned away, near tears, and went to wait backstage. It was true, she was proud that she had gotten into the chorus of the Opera Populaire, but....  
"I don't give myself airs, do I, Meg?" she asked of young Meg Giry, her friend who was also in the chorus and the daughter of the boxkeeper of Box Five, Madame Giry. Meg raised her eyebrows.  
"Non! Of course not, Amoret. Carlotta is just jealous of you," Meg said loyally. Amoret gasped and shook her head, in near horror.  
"No...why would the Prima Donna be jealous of me?" Amoret asked in disbelief.  
"Because you're younger, prettier and far more talented that she," a voice behind them said. Both girls turned to see the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny coming up to them.  
"Mercí, Monsieur le Vicomte, but surely you cannot actually mean that," Amoret murmured.  
"Oh, but I do, ma chere mademoiselle," Raoul replied with a smile. He had become rather fond of the chorus girl since his family began its patronage of the Opera.  
"Meg! Amoret! Your places!" the harried stage manager gasped to them as he dashed by. Meg and Amoret both laughed.  
"Poor dear," Meg said fondly.   
"I will be watching, mademoiselles..." Raoul said as he left them to take a seat. He had convinced Poligny and Debienne to let him watch the rehearsal.  
***  
"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try. When you find that once again, you long to take... AHHHH!" Carlotta screamed suddenly. She was pointing up at Box Five, her eyes wide with panic. Sitting there was the Opera Ghost, as the soon-to-retire managers referred to him.  
"The Phantom of the Opera!" Amoret said softly. She had heard the rumors of the mysterious patron, but she had not seen him before this moment.  
"Good Heavens, would you show a little courtesy?!" Poligny exclaimed in exasperation.  
"Mademoiselle, please!" Debienne put in, soothingly. "These things do happen..." Carlotta glared at him.  
"Sí! These things do 'appen! Well, I tell you, stop these things 'appening! *This* thing does *not* 'appen!!" she shrieked at the hapless men who were gathered on the stage.  
"Amoret LeRoux could sing it, messieurs!" Meg called to the managers. Amoret turned quickly to stare at her friend. "Meg, what are you..." Amoret asked in a low whisper.  
"A chorus girl?" André asked with some condescension. Madame Giry spoke up from the wings, where she was watching her daughter.  
"Let her sing for you, messieurs...she has been well taught!" the woman told the managers. Firmin paused in thought, looked over at André, then finally nodded. He gestured Amoret forward from the chorus girls.  
Amoret was very nervous, but when she glanced up at the Phantom, her nerves were mysteriously settled. She sang the piece perfectly. As André and Firmin nodded their approval of the young chorus girl, Amoret did not feel Carlotta's eyes burning with hatred for her. What she did feel was the Phantom's strangely proud gaze.  
"Who the Devil is that?" Monsieur André asked of Debienne and Poligny. He jerked his head in the direction of Box Five. The Phantom had disappeared.   
"Oh, that was the Opera Ghost. He owns the opera," Poligny told him nonchalantly.  
"Opera Ghost?!" Firmin burst out. He looked close to laughing...or having a fit. Carlotta looked up at the mention of the Ghost.  
"Sí! The Ghost who is always meddling in our business! He is a joke!" she said lightly, her flushed face bearing a look of contempt. Madame Giry stepped out from the wings, an envelope in her hands, her face pale.  
"You should not speak like that, signora! If the fantôme hears you..." the good woman hissed with anxiety, forgetting for the moment her errand. Carlotta sniffed but somehow managed to hold her tongue. ~No small task for Carlotta Guidecelli...~  
To prevent a melee, Poligny gestured Madame Giry forward. "You had something to say Madame?" he prompted.  
"Oui...a note for the messieurs..." she handed the envelope to Firmin. It was labeled "MM. Firmin et André". Firmin opened the envelope and withdrew a single sheet of paper. He read the note aloud.   
" 'My dear Messieurs,  
It is with deepest regret that I must say I cannot greet you personally and congratulate you on your procurement of my splendid Opera. I believe my staff will perform quite admirably. I also shall remind you, although MM. Poligny and Debienne have of course already informed you, that a salary of 20,000 F is due to me the last of every month. Perhaps with the Comte et Vicomte de Chagny as your patrons, however, you will be able to afford a larger sum. I look forward to your work with my Opera.  
Your Obedient Servant,  
O.G.'   
"A crock! Who does this Ghost think he is?!" Firmin exclaimed, incensed. He handed the note to his partner. André read it and scowled. He tore the paper into pieces and threw them upon the stage.  
"20,000 F a month, indeed!" he muttered angrily. 


	3. Quel est il la vraie beauté?

Later in the afternoon sat in her small bedroom, which was really a dressing room inside the Opera, brushing the curls out of her long red hair. "You did very well this morning, Amoret," a heavenly male voice said. It came from out of thin air.   
Amoret started. "It's you, isn't it?" she called, turning toward her mirror to see if she could glimpse the speaker. But, of course, she could not see him.  
Inside the wall, the Phantom smiled softly. "Of course, Amoret. Your Angel..." Amoret nodded, shifting her skirts so she could sit facing the mirror behind her better. "Now, sing for me..."  
Amoret began singing her "trouser" rôle as Siebel, but soon the mysterious voice stopped her. "Non, non...the lead. Carlotta's part. That's the part you want, isn't it?" he said. Amoret's tilted gray-green eyes widened at the command, but she knew better than to disobey. She began Marguerite's aria, wondering why he wished her to sing Carlotta's part. The diva would never allow her to take her rôle.  
The Phantom closed his eyes in bliss as she sang for him. This was what a diva should sound like, not Carlotta's tone-deaf squawking. When Amoret finished the aria, he nodded, though she could not see it. "You are finally ready, Amoret. Tonight you will sing Marguerite, and the world will love you for it."   
"But what about Carlotta? She is to sing Marguerite..." Amoret protested. "Do not concern yourself with Carlotta!" the Phantom snapped, forgetting himself. His temper was always short concerning the so-called diva, whom he detested. "Be prepared to sing her rôle, Amoret. Soon all Paris will know of your gift."  
***  
Half an hour before the curtains were to go up on Faust, Firmin and André received word that Carlotta had taken ill and would be unable to sing. Firmin growled and jumped to his feet. "Where are you going, Firmin?" André asked.  
"To talk to Carlotta. I'll do one of two things: either cure her or kill her!" Firmin replied. But Madame Giry, who had brought the news, shook her head.  
"But, monsieur... Carlotta has already gone home," the box keeper said. Firmin cursed under his breath.  
"Who is her understudy?" he finally asked, taking his seat.  
"She refused to have one, monsieur. But perhaps..." she trailed off.  
"Perhaps? Oui, perhaps what, Madame Giry?!" Firmin demanded.  
"I think that Amoret LeRoux could sing the part. You heard her earlier today..." André nodded.  
"Ah, oui...the chorus girl... She did sing very well this morning, Firmin." The other man nodded and waved his hand in agreement, his face still red with fury at Carlotta's sudden leave-of-absence.  
Amoret sang the part of Marguerite as her "Angel" had promised. The audience loved her and gave her a standing ovation. Amoret was so happy that she did not see the masked figure in Box Five gazing raptly at her.  
  
***  
  
That night, as she sat in front of her mirror, Amoret hummed Marguerite's "Jewel Song" happily. She had sang with not just her voice, but her body and spirit. she was physically and mentally exhausted, but she was not tired. Instead, she felt ablaze.  
"You were perfect, Amoret," the angelic voice said suddenly. Amoret leapt, startled, but smiled as she realized who had spoken.  
Outside of Amoret's dressing room, Raoul heard the mysterious voice ~of course he did, he was eavesdropping~ and turned quickly. Who could the girl be talking to? He had not seen a man enter the room.  
"Because of you and your instruction, Angel..." Amoret replied, her voice amused. She and the mysterious "Angel" laughed together, piercing Raoul's heart. Then silence descended for a long moment.  
"You surpassed even my expectations, Amoret," the voice said. Raoul could imagine its owner, a tall, handsome man who sat with the young woman, no doubt gazing attentively at her, perhaps even holding her hand.  
Amoret sighed deeply. "Oh, Angel...I gave you my soul tonight, and now I am dead!" she said to him, her fascinating gray-green eyes half-closed as she leaned back against her vanity, the exhaustion beginning to overcome her fervor.  
"A beautiful thing, ma chere... No emperor ever received such a gift as this." A pause, and Raoul was certain that his rival was kissing Amoret. He silently cursed the girl, calling her names that would cause a sailor to blush with shame. Then... "But you are tired, Amoret. So I shall bid you good-night."  
"Oui, I am tiring. Good-night, my Angel of Music..." Amoret said softly, her voice venerating. Raoul waited for the visitor to leave. but he did not. Amoret left for a moment for a forgotten score, and the young Vicomte looked in her dressing room. It was empty.  
  
~Comments, suggestions, questions, complaints or cries for help? Read and Review or E-mail me @ ThePhantomoftheRing@hotmail.com~  
~Le fantôme~ 


	4. Par le miroir...

That night, as Amoret slept, the Phantom crept silently into her bedroom. He knelt by the head of her bed, watching her with longing. "My Angel of Music..." he whispered. Amoret turned slightly toward him, still asleep. His breath caught in his throat. She was so lovely, so innocent.   
He brushed a strand of her fiery hair from her pale face. Then he began to sing to her. The Phantom stayed there by her bed for hours, singing to Amoret.  
***  
The next morning, after searching for over an hour, Meg finally found Amoret who had hidden from the rest of the cast, and in particular Carlotta. The diva was in a particularly foul mood after being shown up by the "little toad".   
"Where in the world have you been hiding? Really, you were perfect. I only wish I knew your secret...who is this new tutor?" she asked.  
Amoret looked at Meg and hoped beyond hope that Meg would not laugh at her. "Father once spoke of an Angel...I used to dream he'd appear. Now when I sing, I can sense him, and I know he's here. Here, in this room, he calls me softly. Somewhere inside, hiding...Somehow I know he's always with me. He, the unseen genius." Meg shook her head at this. She looked worried for Amoret.  
"Amoret, you must have been dreaming. Stories like this can't come true. Amoret, you're talking in riddles, and it's not like you..." she said softly.  
"Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory. Angel of Music, hide no longer. Secret and strange Angel..." Meg took Amoret's hands in hers. "He's with me, even now..." Meg gasped.  
"Your hands are cold!" she exclaimed, leaning in toward the young woman and peering at her closely.  
"...all around me..."  
"Your face, Amoret, it's white!"  
"It frightens me..."'  
"Don't be frightened..."  
***  
Raoul took Amoret to dinner in a beautiful and no doubt expensive restaurant. "You were wonderful last night, ma chere mademoiselle," he told her, as they ate dessert. Amoret smiled softly at the praise. "How have you improved so much so quickly?" he asked her. Amoret looked down at her plate, hesitating. She did not want Raoul to laugh at her, or to tell her she was imagining things, as Meg had.  
"My father sends an angel to teach me," she said finally. "The Angel of Music. He tutors me, inspires my voice." Raoul laughed, but at Amoret's face he stopped, realizing that she was serious. It would not do to insult her...not if he was to get what he wanted. ~Typical male chauvinism...no concern for Amoret's feelings...~  
"Sing for me that lullaby your father sang for you, please. It's a lovely melody," he requested, changing the subject. Amoret agreed, eager to change the subject.  
" 'No, what I love best,' Lotte said, 'is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head.' " Raoul joined Amoret in singing the second chorus. " '...and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head'."  
The Phantom was there, watching, and he now glared at Raoul, his eyes flaming with jealousy for the young Vicomte de Chagny.  
***  
Amoret was standing in her small bed/dressing room, imagining that she was the diva. "You'll be the diva, Amoret. And I'll be there by your side..." Raoul said as he left her. ~and just who invited him to share in Erik's handiwork?~  
"Insolent boy! This slave of fashion! Basking in your glory!" the Phantom called out to Amoret when she was alone, frightening the unsuspecting girl half out of her wits. "Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor! Sharing in my triumph!"   
Amoret turned as she heard his voice. "Angel, I hear you speak, I listen...stay by my side, guide me...Angel, my soul was weak, forgive me...enter at last, Master..." The Phantom smiled at her words. Amoret would be his.  
"Amoret, you must love me!" her "Angel" said suddenly, longing heavy in his divine voice. The child's eyes watered and she looked downward, unsure of exactly why.  
"Oh, my Angel! How *can* you say that to me? When I sing for you alone!" Amoret felt a single tear run down her cheek and she flushed, self-conscious about her lack of discipline. The Angel would not teach her if she showed weakness...she was certain of that. He demanded, and deserved, perfection.  
"Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide... " Amoret walked to her settee and sat gazing, enthralled, at her mirror. Her tears were forgotten as joy filled her. He was going to show himself to her. "Look at your face in the mirror...I am there, inside!"   
"Angel of Music, guide and guardian...hide no longer. Come to me, strange Angel..." The Phantom stepped closer to his beloved. At the same moment, Amoret stood and moved toward the large mirror.  
"I am your Angel...Come to me, Angel of Music..."   
"Whose is that voice? Who is that in there?!" Raoul cried, turning back to the door.   
"I am your Angel of Music...come to me, Angel of Music!" the Phantom called again to Amoret. Raoul burst in as Amoret went *through* the mirror...into the Phantom's world of Darkness.  
"Amoret! Angel!" Raoul called after her. But he was too late to stop her. ~Oh,   
dear...the poor Vicomte de Chagny...whatever will he do...~  
  
  
~Comments, suggestions, questions, complaints or cries for help? Read and Review or E-mail me @ ThePhantomoftheRing@hotmail.com~  
~Le fantôme~ 


	5. Venir à votre Ange étrange...

The Phantom led Amoret through the seemingly endless dark passages and tunnels to his music chamber. "In sleep you sang to me...in dreams you came. That voice which calls to me...and speaks my name." She looked at her companion. "And do I dream again? For now I find the Phantom of the Opera is there...inside my mind..." she said. Under his mask, the Phantom smiled.  
"Sing once again with me our strange duet. My power over you grows stronger yet." He put his arms around her waist. "And though you turn from me to glance behind...I am here," he kissed her temple, "inside your mind..."   
With that kiss, Amoret knew what her "Angel" truly was. No Angel would touch a mortal in that way. "You are not my Angel! You are nothing but a mortal man! You..." Here her voice began to crack, and she had to fight back tears. "You made me love you! You took my memories of my father and twisted them to suit your own perverse desires!" Her pale skin was flushed crimson with anger and she looked as if she meant to strike him.  
Erik stared at the girl, startled. He had certainly not expected this reaction from the reserved, shy young chorus girl. "Amoret...I..." He was stunned as she interrupted him.  
"Non! I want to go back! I trusted you! I thought you were my Angel...my own Angel who would help me, and show me what I could be..." she could not finish, as she was sobbing loudly. Instinctively, Erik opened his arms to the young woman, and was thoroughly amazed when she allowed him to embrace her.  
Amoret was equally surprised at her yielding to the mysterious man's advance. She was so angry...the only time she had been angrier was when her father died, leaving her alone to face the vast world. She had hated her father for a long while afterward, until she finally realized that she would rather forgive and love the memory of her father.  
So it was with this false Angel. She had loved the voice for so long. Why did it seem to matter whether the voice belonged to mortal or angel? Or devil, she thought, aghast at her own heretical thoughts, but thinking them nonetheless.  
"Can I not still teach you, even though I am mortal?" he asked her in that radiant voice. Despite herself, Amoret's will was weakening. "If I did deceive you, it was because I love you."   
"You...you love me?" Amoret asked him in a trembling whisper. He nodded. "You say you love me. If you love me, will you let me go back?"  
"If it pleases you, ma chere. But I ask that you stay here, with me, for a few days. Just a few days; a week at most. Then I will allow you to sing for my Opera once again" Erik looked down at her. "Do you agree?"  
"Oui...mon ange..." Her still reverent tone touched his heart and he smiled behind the white mask which concealed his wretched ugliness. She was going to be a perfect pupil.  
"Erik," he gently corrected her, in his instructing voice. "My name is Erik."  
  
***  
  
For five blissful days, there was no one or nothing in the world besides her and Erik. And the accursed cat. Erik's sleek and regal Siamese cat, Ayesha was the little beast's name, was the most hateful and jealous creature that Amoret had ever seen.   
***  
Amoret, who had always liked cats, had reached out to stroke the pretty head and had been rewarded with a vicious swipe of razor-sharp claws. "Ouch! You little..." she cut herself off, afraid of upsetting her teacher.   
But Erik was busy with his scores, searching for one with which to begin the first lesson. "What would you like to sing first, Amoret? Mozart, perhaps? Or Beethoven?" Amoret walked over to his organ, examining the sheets of music, lifting them one at a time and reading over them.  
She soon came to one labeled "Don Juan Triumphant". Under the title were the words "composed by Erik Dessleur". "You wrote this, Erik?" It was still strange to call him by that name. So ordinary, yet with him, it was almost mystical. Erik turned and snatched the manuscript from her hands.  
"It is not finished...incomplete. I have many pieces for you to choose from, Amoret. But not this. No one has heard this work, except, of course Ayesha." Amoret felt an absurd burst of jealously at the cat, which had climbed upon the organ and pressed into Erik's arms. Amoret could have sworn that the beast was smirking at her. 'I have Erik and you do not,' Amoret read in those wicked blue eyes.  
"I want you to play your work for me, Erik," Amoret replied stubbornly, taking the papers from Erik's hands and placing them on the music rack of the organ. "Play it for me, please..." Erik was helpless to the passionate gaze of those gray-green eyes and he sighed in a show of great reluctance.  
"I, of course, can refuse you nothing, ma chere...but only a small bit. My music is dangerous." It was not for some time that Amoret realized how very true those cryptic words really were. 


	6. L'amour, tordu mais vrai

L'amour, tordu mais vrai...  
  
Erik watched her sleeping. He had prepared a bedroom for her under the orchestra pit weeks earlier, hardly allowing himself to hope that she would ever use it. And now she was here...so close that he could hear her near silent breathing. He reached out to stroke her silken hair, aching to be nearer his beloved Amoret.  
  
Just then, Ayesha jumped onto his lap, purring loudly and nuzzling his chest. She meowed loudly, demanding his attention. He shushed her, petting her soft fur. "Quiet, Ayesha...she's sleeping..." he whispered, his eyes still locked on the lovely girl. Ayesha looked at him and meowed louder. Amoret stirred in her sleep, but thankfully did not awaken. Erik looked down at Ayesha, surprised at her behavior.   
  
He decided to leave Amoret to sleep in peace, lest Ayesha awaken the sleeping girl. Erik dared not risk having the girl find him watching her. She would no doubt be terrified. And Erik would not risk losing her. He set Ayesha down and leaned carefully over Amoret. "Good night, ma chère..." he whispered, gently kissing her forehead.  
  
***  
  
In the morning, Amoret awoke to find a perfect red rose lying on her pillow, along with a note. She sat up and took both in her hands. She read the note, noticing it was written in a rather clumsy hand.   
  
'Ma chère Amoret,  
  
I have business to attend to today, and I regret that I will be away until this evening. I have food laid out for your breakfast, and there are many things in the pantry for your dinner. I ask that you do not wander out of these rooms. It is dangerous, and you could become lost. I would not have anything happen to you.  
  
All my Love,  
  
Erik'  
  
Amoret smiled. He was very sweet to her. But her smile faded as she left her bed. Ayesha, the little demon, was sitting on the floor just beyond her bed. The blue eyes stared into Amoret, and Ayesha's tail was switching back and forth. "Oh, no..." Amoret murmured, looking down at the cat with foreboding. "Why couldn't Erik take you with him?" she asked the cat.   
  
She stood carefully, her eyes not leaving Ayesha. The cat followed her movements, watching everything Amoret did as she dressed and braided her hair. Then Ayesha followed Amoret as she walked to the main room and sat at the table which held the breakfast Erik had set out. "What do you want?" Amoret demanded, feeling very put out. Then she realized that she was talking to a cat. Ayesha merely stared at Amoret, and the girl fancied she saw dislike in those blue eyes. But that was ridiculous...wasn't it? 


End file.
